


Hot Topic Trends and Swarovski Friends

by Cattailbow



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Love at First Sight, M/M, basically fluff, civilians au, extremely fast burn for no reason other than i wanted to finish the story lmao, jack runs a flower shop idk, random ass child oc, the hot topic and businessperson AU from tumblr u didnt kno u needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattailbow/pseuds/Cattailbow
Summary: Jesse McCree spends several years running a farm before coming back home and helping his dad, Gabe, run a Hot Topic. And everything pretty much goes off without a hitch, sans for the poorly designed building means that customers and employees in the West wing of the mall have to run all the way to the food court in order to use the bathroom. Except for Hot Topic employees, which miraculously have one on the back of the store. Gabe offers bathroom rights to the people running Swarovski directly across from their Hot Topic, and even gets an engagement ring discount so he can propose to Jack. Score!Oh yeah, and Hanzo is looking pretty hot in his suit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> cw alcohol implied, but nothing else rlly
> 
> hana and lucio r not explicitly a couple but they both work at hot topic. this is primarily about jesse and hanzo but there is also some r76 in there for most of it. not beta'd

Jesse McCree was a simple man-- he liked his eyeliner as black as his heart, and his stetson as spotless as he wished his life. Being co-manager of the local mall’s Hot Topic allowed him to indulge in both. Though the punk cowboy aesthetic was unique, he certainly was not the odd duck out at his workplace. No one ever batted an eyelash at his smudged eyeliner, and no one--absolutely no one--made fun of his stetson. Sans the younger sibling of a mall teen that occasionally dragged their otherwise normie family inside the store while they coped another anime t-shirt. Two and a half foot children were cute and all, but they were the exact same height for running into Jesse’s ass while trying to play a precarious game of tag in the store. 

Jesse shuddered. The last time a kid ran into his literal godforsaken ass, it caught him so off guard that he dropped his tablet in the middle of taken inventory and it had shattered beyond repair. He was very lucky his co-manager and dad, Gabriel Reyes, was in a good mood after spending the weekend with his gringo of a boyfriend. No shade, Jack “Jack-o-lantern” Morrison. Jesse didn’t know what Gabe saw in those blue eyes, but the only thing that Jesse could feel was this eye disease article he recently read in the lounge of his optometrist, the one that said people with blue eyes are at higher risk for certain eye diseases. But if this guy made his dad happen, then, hell.

Whatever. Jesse didn’t mind it when Jack came into Hot Topic with his Jack’s Flowers gardener apron, immediately locked eyes with his dad, and started making weird growling noise. And swiping his hand like a tiger paw at Gabe when Gabe eventually caught his fiance in an embrace. And Gabe growled back at Jack. And then the two held hands all the way to the food court’s Chinese takeout place. Ok, so maybe Jesse did mind it. He minded it, but he excused it because if Gabe was happy enough that he didn’t mind adding a $1,000 to the office expenses Excel sheet for a replacement tablet in August, Jesse wasn’t going to say anything about it. And it’s not like Jesse really minded anyways. He could ignore his urge to run his eyes under hot water every single time their weird growling match happened. 

It was good to have a happy pansexual dad. And for all the beef he gave blondie, he wasn’t that bad of a guy. Jack-o even brought in some black roses for the checkout counter from the flower shop he owned. So whatever. Black is, and will always be, the new black.

Jesse McCree was a simple man. And he liked his life like he liked himself, simple.

Gabe wasn’t his birth father by any means, actually, but was more of a father than anyone else in his life had been. Jesse once ran with a gang, only to be plucked out by the man himself before it got too rough. Jesse had “seen some shit”, but Gabe had seen more. Jesse was now at a transitional period in his life, not quite sure what to do with his Bachelor’s in agriculture after several years of farm management. That, he owed to Gabe’s heavy counseling and encouragement during his formative years. And so here Jesse was again, going through another rebellious phase at the ripe age of 28. He had to owe it to Gabe, though, Hot Topic was the shit of shits. 

Everything was black. Well, almost everything was black. The back wall was in black. The checkout counter was certainly black. They had an aisle dedicated to rock band t-shirts which were exclusively in black. They had some of the cuter stuff, like Tokidoki toys, but even if those weren’t black, they were punk. And Jesse liked punk. The only section that was not black was the bathroom which they miraculously owned inside the store. That was a miraculously clean white. It had a sign that said “Employee’s Only”, but Jesse allowed normie parents to use it when their younger non-teen children were on the verge of having an accident. Better in the bathroom, than on the display shelves. (Yes, that did happen. More than once, in fact).

The bathroom was an absolute blessing, considering bathrooms at this mall were a scarce commodity. The investor that built the mall, Jesse always guessed, must have skimped on an architect because there were a plethora of stalls in the food court area. There were maybe three men’s and 3 women’s stalls in the food court alone. And the big stalls too, made to accommodate multiple people and babies at the same time. The rest of the mall had a scattering of single, gender-neutral/family stalls. But because they were single stalls, a lot of the time these scattered stalls were occupied. So if you were in Hot Topic on the East wing of the mall, you would have to run all the way to the West wing food court if you wanted a guaranteed toilet. 

Jesse talked to Lucio, one of his temporary employees, about the design of the building. They both wondered how intoxicated the designer must have been when giving their final presentation of the building schematic, or how inebriated the investor must have been while signing off his approval. And Jesse hadn’t bothered to look up the investor, but it was almost definitely a ‘he’. A woman, or anyone else in the investor position, would never have made such a bonehead of a mistake. Absolutely no way. Men were fucking idiots. 

Last year, his dad had decided to look into purchasing an engagement ring for his boyfriend. (Spoiler alert: Jack-o-lantern said yes, but not before crying his eyes out and needing to blow his nose on the tablecloth of the fancy restaurant the two splurged on for a fancy meal. The entire restaurant had clapped, including the conspiring employees. Jack made sure to tip the waiters extra hard after his waterworks). And so Gabe had walked straight into the Swarovski that was located directly across from Hot Topic. It was funny, seeing Gabe make a beeline for some of their rings in his beanie and Sandals with Socks™ look. But in the middle of his consultation, the man overheard one of the Swarovski business people complaining about having to trek all the way to the mall’s West Wing. 

And Gabe, oh Gabe, with his generous spirit offered up their private Hot Topic restroom. And not that Jesse minded, for reasons later explained, but it was a huge deal. The Swarovski people were so inspired by the selfless act, they offered Gabe a 15% discount on his engagement ring for Jack and a 10% discount for any future Hot Topic mall employees. He even shook hands with their manager, a young blonde woman that shone just like Swarovski’s crystals, to seal the deal. And that was stocks, baby. 

So, for the past year, if there was a well-to-do person in a swaggy suit perambulating Hot Topic wears, no one said shit. They were friends. More than friends. Bends (best friends). Hana, another Hot Topic employee, once approached Jesse and said she wanted to call them Tends (toilet friends). But Jesse had shot that down pretty fast, to the dismay of one Hana Song, since he figured it would be best to act polite and all. Plus, “toilet friends” sounded rather presumptuous. 

Though here’s the kicker of it all. Recently Jesse had eyed a real looker from his perch in the rock band t-shirt section of Hot Topic. A brand new Swarovski employee, that looked his own age. He didn’t know the man’s name, but Jesse was taken aback despite never having interacted with him one-on-one. That is, not until today. 

Hanzo Shimada, the brand new Swarovski sales associate, was a fine son of a gun, and it showed through his 3-piece suit. And he was in Hot Topic at this very moment. Yellow tie in an eldredge knot. Impeccably trimmed beard. Undercut. Top knot. 

Whew, this man made Jesse sweat bullets just by looking at him. Except right now, Mr. Swarovski was talking to Hana. 

Jesse would have to chat her up later. Except, maybe he didn’t have to. Because Hana had just redirected the man his way. (Score). But Jesse swore the world froze, and as he saw Hanzo make his way down the aisles of goth merch. When Hanzo was close enough, the two made eye contact and Jesse swore his world turned a brilliant pink with floating hearts. 

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” starts blasting from the speakers, courtesy of one meddling employee that likes to tamper with the store playlists. The back wall was now pink. The checkout counter was pink. The band t-shirts he was sitting on were definitely pink. The Tokidoki--the Tokidoki didn’t change but it still fit the theme. Tokidoki went with everything. And Mr. Swarovski looked like he was walking around with a soft Instagram filter attached to his face. He was glowing like a sun. And now he was moving his lips, except Jesse couldn’t hear anything.

His world was still going in slow motion. And he was hyper-fixated on the man’s lips. His soft, kissable lips. The way his lips would feel under his ow--and the moment was ruined. Jesse was shocked back into reality when they both heard a baby cry from the mall seating area just outside the store. Rats. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Jesse asked, lacing his question with genuine curiosity.

“Is your bathroom available? I am one of the latest Swarovski hires from across the wing?”

Oh. 

Well, that made sense. 

That made a lot of sense. 

Handsome men didn’t just come into Hot Topic and ask to talk to him. Jesse suddenly felt like he was fucking around in the wrong league. Like, “little league” to “professional league” type wrong. Like, “little league” to “Hall of Fame” wrong. Did baseball have a Hall of Fame? He didn’t know. He wasn’t a baseball sort of guy. Though maybe he would just have to switch it up if Mr. Handsome was into baseball. Maybe Jesse would have to switch his usual hat out for a baseball cap. 

“Well?” the man asked, impatiently. 

Jesse nods, not wanting to stall any further and putting his baseball fantasies aside.

Jesse lead them to the back of the store unceremoniously. The bathroom’s “Employees Only” sign now had a subscript that read “(Hot Topic and Swarovski)” for clarity. 

“Feel free to saunter in without askin’ next time,'' Jesse says with a wink. “What was your name again?”

“I didn’t say.” Swarovski man looks at him deadpan, and catches a better look of Jesse’s smudged eyeliner. And then Swarovski man looks at Jesse’s stetson. And Jesse knows he’s being judged, but for whatever unholy reason, it doesn’t quite bother him. “Hanzo Shimada, at your service.” 

Hanzo stifles a laugh, making eye contact before closing the door on Jesse’s face. What a mean son of a gun.

And for a brief moment once again, Jesse swears his world turns into pink hearts. If it was love at first sight, he was royally fucked. Eyeliner and stetson be damned.

And that blasted song was still playing, except now Hana was singing along while looking in his direction.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw maybe emeto but nothing happens?, period products mentioned once (someone starts listing all of the hot topic bathroom amenities) 
> 
> surprise! im back with more nonsense! a WHOLE lot of meddling hana and an abrupt yet thrilling conclusion 2 this fic

Hana popped the gum in her mouth and continued her macarena adagio while side eyeing her boss from across the room. She thought that legally, because she had not been the one to favorite “Can’t Help Falling in Love” on the official Hot Topic Spotify account, she could not be persecuted for her questionable actions. Of course, because the local mall’s Hot Topic’s Spotify was just Gabriel Reyes’ personal account, Hana had a good idea as to who had contentious music taste. She herself would have gone for something a league ahead in taste, such as “Love Cherry Motion” by Loona. But Hana did what she had to do at the turn of the clock, because she was undenyable a woman of action. 

Her boss came back to the checkout counter after Vogue’s December pinup boy slammed the bathroom door in his face, Jesse looking very much like a depressed puppy. And for the most part: wig. Leave it to Jesse to match the store aesthetic. But for the rest of parts, Hana was very concerned, never having caught her boss in a moment of inner turmoil. 

“What’s poppin’, old man?” she asked, trying and failing to blow another bubble. “You looked like you just fell in love, and immediately got dunked on by that Japanese hunk of a model. Uh, Hanzo. By Hanzo. Vogue’s December pinup boy.”

Jesse wiped one of his eyes, trying his damnest not to smudge his own eyeliner. That shit was expensive, and he tried to conserve his personal reserve of Urban Decay 24/7 Eye Pencils. He stifled a laugh before signing. “I'm not that old, Hana Banana. Let's talk business. Did you see that Japanese hunk waltz in with his suit? Hana, I’m out of his league. It’s like I’m one of the guys in an amateur league and he’s out there playin’ All Stars.” 

“ORZ. You’re busting out all your shabby baseball references, and you only do that when you’re really troubled because you don’t know jack about baseball. This is serious.” Hana tried her best consoling Jesse, but it was a tough one. She gave him a friendly pat on the back. “Could be worse--he could have laughed at your fashion and lack thereof like any other normal person would. But that usually puts your grouchy ass in a sour mood, and you look more sad than sour.”

Jesse winced before taking the hat off his head and positioning it over his heart, for Hana’s haphazard comment hit too close to home. It’s like a flyball smashed his favorite apartment window. “I’m as sour as a piece o’cotton candy. He stifled a laugh and I ain’t even bat an eyelash, Hana. An’ I  _ always _ bat an eyelash when someone spits out somethin’ bitter. I don’t know… what in tarnation is happening to me. One look at ‘im and it was like the world was pink hearts, and pink hearts only. Do you know how many hot, single men I've seen in my life? Do you? Too damn many for this to be new.”

“Ok, ew. Are you kidding me with the hearts? O ireon, neo jinjihan geoya--are you fucking kidding me. Oh my god. Can't you just text Genji to see if Hanzo’s into men?” Hana gets out her phone and starts typing a message. “Actually, I’ll do it right now. Dearest…. Genji…. Is…. Hanzo….. Gay? Inquiring….. For….. a…. Certain… Cowboy. Sent.”

Jesse sighs. Maybe he should have been thanking the stars for such a fateful (and quite frankly, fine as hell) encounter after all those years trying to start something on Grindr. He wasn’t getting any younger at 28. The pool of available men started to dwindle around this age, though ever so slightly. Not drastically dwindle, but dwindle a smidge enough to make him nervous about living alone for the rest of his life even though he wasn’t  _ that _ old. And well, getting booty called at 3AM by a stranger always did leave a nasty taste in his mouth. 

Hanzo was like a tall glass of lemonade. A 5’ 8” glass of lemonade, in fact, on a hot summer’s day. With precipitation collecting on the outside of the glass and dripping all the way down. That kind of lemonade. A very sexy lemonade, outside on a plastic lawn table. 

There was a semi-loud ping, notifying the two of Genji’s message.

**From: u must b Gen-joking**

**11:50AM**

lmaoooooo WHUT?????? cant say i didnt see this coming. tell disaster gay jesse 2 get ON it. hanzo’s as straight as a cooked noodle

Another ping. 

**From: u must b Gen-joking**

**11:51AM**

srsly tho jesse. Hes lonely. Ur probably lonely. Hes gay. Ur pan. think abt it & tell me when u want to jump his bones so I can have an uninterrupted naruto marathon w/o ham (not han, ham) stealing my Mountain Dew ice cream

Well.

That answered  _ that _ . 

And provoked a couple of questions at the same time. About the ice cream, but most importantly, Naruto? He knew Genji occasionally came in to buy a shirt or two, if he wasn't here for a bathroom run. But it was still kind of weird, in this day and age. Didn't that show have hundreds of episodes? Maybe Jesse would offer to watch with Genji at some point, while he wasn't trying to stick his hand down Hanzo’s suit butt pocket. Wait. Hanzo’s butt…

Bwoop. The sound of a message being sent, instead of being received.

**To: u must b Gen-joking**

**11:51AM**

LOL operation Get Jesse a Boyfriend now in progress

Jesse put his stetson back into position and crossed his arms for theatrical effect. “Hana. I can see what you’re textin’, you know.” But his hammed up irritation just for theatrical effect, since Hana wasn’t just an employee. She was also a friend with a capital f, and Jesse thought that he deserved his fair share of harmless teasing over his newfound inamorato. Though he actually was kind of offended. Just a little.

“Ok, but you do want to be his boyfriend, right? Like, he’s hot. And he’s your age. And, most importantly, he looks like he would treat you right, like the tiger from Zootopia everyone was obsessed with for a few months despite Zootopia being literal copaganda. And, Jesse, you deserve to be treated right. After years of getting unsolicited dick pics on your gay dating app? EZ strats fam.”

Jesse groaned. “Ok, fine. Don’t remind me about that movie, though. I thought we said we would never  _ ever _ mention Zootopia again since we were mauled by sweaty teenagers for that buff tiger’s limited edition Funko Pop. But you’re right. Hanzo’s the finest thing I’ve seen since the small batch marmalade store opened on the first floor, and they have huckleberry. What’s a young man to do?”

“Listen, grandpa. What should you do while Sexy Man is taking a piss? Dude. Wait for him to come out, and maybe ask him out to dinner or something with your Jesse Brand trademark charm. He came marching in here asking to speak to the manager and looked pleasantly surprised it was you. He’s probably interested, if I'm being honest.”

“We don’t know if that interest is good or bad,” Jesse retorted.

Hana groaned, realizing Jesse had set her up to make a cowboy-themed pun.

“Fine. We don’t know if that interest is good or bad, but Hanzo sure as hell isn’t ugly. So act natural, cowboy, and be yourself for once in your goddamn life. Oh, and watch out for that tiny kid that just came in with a huge pretzel.” And that was that on that--she was done playing cupid for the day. Hana returned to her task of reorganizing a Pusheen mystery box display. Jesse gave her a palpable salute in honor of her noble effort.

She had stacked the boxes in a neat little pyramid, but someone (probably that same pretzel kid) had taken a mystery box out of the base of her construction, and the entire thing had toppled down while she was stirring up trouble as honorary makeshift matchmaker. Just a couple more hours in, and she could get a mic upgrade on the way home for her livestream tonight. Her Bans (Best Fans, not to be confused with the number of accounts she has actually banned) deserved nice gear.

A text message ping came from the Employee’s Only bathroom, but was drowned out by a remix of “Love Cherry Motion” Hana had put on blast across the store.

The only person that could have heard that ping was Hanzo, because it was his phone going off, reverberating from the walls of the restroom he was in. It was like he had been transported back into his first day of high school (though at the time he didn’t realize it would be his last), and was sitting in the bathroom instead of making friends at the communal lunch tables. It was kind of pathetic, to be completely honest. But here he was, at the age of 29. And it wasn’t like him to turn to his brother for advice, but desperate times called for “go crazy, go stupid” tier measures. 

He weighed his options.

Jesse McCree was a rather handsome that managed to pull off a set of disastrous fashion choices. Absolutely disastrous. But more importantly, his brother Genji was best friends with this man, and most likely had information regarding Jesse’s sexuality. Hanzo had a rather weak gaydar. However, on the other hand, asking his brother for advice could lead to his personal demise via incessant teasing and ridicule. So, it was a bit of a toss up. Especially since Hanzo had just spent the better part of the last 10 minutes replaying their first introduction like the opening scene to a cinematic masterpiece. Kind of like the opening to Into the Spiderverse, except not ½ as good and yet strangely as alluring. Sorry, Miles Morales. 

(And his UK counterpart: 1.61 Kilometer Morales).

Jesse’s brown eyes, framed by a hint of smudged black eyeliner, made him look like a popular musician. And musicians were pretty hot.

Needless to say, Hanzo had to keep it in check. He tried to center himself by making observational facts about the room he was located in. 

The bathroom mirror was circular with a silver rim. Ok. The bathroom had a rather delicate artisanal soap stack, where the soaps appeared to be a cross section of the ocean waves and sand. It looked like a special soap that came with its own YouTube tutorial special for the price of a Ko-Fi.

Ok, but the rest of the bathroom.

The bathroom smelled like a blend of essential oils. There was a small beige bathroom mat, too, adding to the ambiance. And there was a shelf full of free period-related products. And if that wasn’t enough, there was also another shelf with a plethora of mini hand towels and a used towel basket. It was actually quite miraculous this chic and organized bathroom existed within the confines of an overtly emo store. He wondered who had been hired as the interior designer, because there was something a little  _ too _ classy about this. Genji had mentioned that Jesse was not the only manager, so maybe his protege had a say in the matter.

It was like a baseball player, caked in dirt, had gone to a bakery instead of the field. Sam? Samantha? Come back. It’s the last inning and you’re our best batter. Please. Please, no. Samantha. We’ll buy you a congratulatory pastry you wanted last week. 

Ping. 

Hanzo looked down at the cellphone he had been clutching, realizing he had a message from the very man he had just contemplated texting. His brother. 

**From: Genji**

**11:52AM**

HEY i heard a certain punk cowboy is into u. make it happen, gay forthcoming of romeo himself

Ping. 

**From: Genji**

**11:52AM**

except without any tragic monologues. we BOTH kno u have that sexy cowboy calendar in ur apartment office

Ping.

**From: Genji**

**11:53AM**

no this wasnt an intentional setup. unless it works out then i want all the credit. also jesse doesnt like it when ppl make fun of his eyeliner and hat so be courteous bro or Else

Ping.

**From: Genji**

**11:53AM**

grape vine says he wants 2 touch ur butt already sooooo

To kill his brother, or to not kill his brother: that was the question. However, since Genji’s imminent death would infringe upon Hanzo’s ability to steal his brother’s disgusting ice cream this weekend, Hanzo shelved his barbaric plans for later.

He sighed, and decided it was best to leave Genji on read for the moment. It’s not like they worked at the same store and would see each other later in the day anyways. Hanzo look one last peek at his opulent reflection, readjusted his yellow tie, and reentered Hot Topic’s garish sales floor. 

“Hanzo Shimada?” said a familiar voice.

Hanzo looked up, a foot over the exit already, before being socially obliged to backtrack. It was not too unusual bumping into a client, but bumping into a client while at a store marketed towards edgy teenagers was another thing in and of itself. “Mr. Morrison and Mr. Reyes. The pleasure is all mine.” 

He cursed at himself, now trapped in polite conversation.

“We were going to write a letter, but maybe it’s better to say this in person. Thanks, son, for crafting our wedding bands. We got your email about them being in production already. Gabe and I are  _ so _ so excited.” Jack jabbed his elbow through a pair of Gabe’s ribs. 

“Oh, yeah. You know, uhhhh. I thought it was kind of tacky at first--getting matching inscriptions on the inside of our wedding bands.” Gabe turns to his fiance, and gave Jack’s right cheek a quick peck. “And I still think it’s tacky. But I think I’ve come around. Fiance’s always right, huh?”

“It  _ is _ quite novel for wedding bands,” Hanzo said. It wasn’t every day that a couple requested bands with matching inscriptions on the inside--one with “mi tesoro” and the other with “my treasure”. It reeked of puppy love. Though between two very different puppies.

Jack looked like he had just stepped out of a garden, with a pair of gardening scissors attached to his belt, and it was quite a juxtaposition to his fiance’s aesthetic, Hanzo had to admit. Gabe sported a neat cateye and a black beanie adorned with tiny skull badges. Fresh flower, meet pressed flower. 

“Have you met my kid?  _ Jessito _ , get your butt over here.” Gabe looked over Hanzo’s head and flagged down Jesse. “Have you met our jeweler in charge of our wedding bands, mijo? No te olvides a saludar. Come say hello.”

Jesse cautiously placed his inventory tablet under his armpit and made his way over towards one of the store’s corners, near the anime merchandise section. He tipped his hat at Hanzo, and internally cursed at Gabe for nearly ending his life by forcing another encounter with the debonair man in a suit.

“Howdy,” he said, as cool as he could muster.

Hanzo politely smiled. “Greetings.”

Gabe observed the encounter and narrowed his eyes. That was the most  _ pathetic _ “howdy” in the history of howdies.

He had known Jesse since the cowboy (more cowboy than cowman) was a kid. Jesse had always been some type of boisterous, from smashing drinks into classmates’ faces during foodfights (Gabe couldn’t have been more proud) to confidently hitting on attractive strangers during family trips (Gabe couldn’t have been more appalled). I mean, who hits on a waiter? Even if its an attractive waiter. An attractive  _ male _ waiter. 

This kid needed manners. ( _ Man _ ners, even, but Gabe would never say that outloud, lest he wanted to find his computer down a garbage disposal for his 23rd awful dad joke of the day). 

“Thanks fer helping out my old man, I know he went to yer store f-fer the engagement rings.” Jesse, out of nervousness, was losing his control over his pronunciation. Jesse scratched his temples, practically breaking out in a light sweat out of sheer nervous energy.

What a sap.

Internally, Gabe rejoiced. He had been waiting for decades to finally make good use of his rehearsed shovel talk, and would have to find the appropriate moment to inflict his damage. Externally, he tried to keep his poker face. Jack had also caught on, placing a hand on his fiance’s shoulder in lieu of verbally expressing his understanding of the situation.

Hanzo’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, giving way to the crash of emotions threatening to surface. “Of course, I am always happy to assist couples preparing for the next step in their lives. Jack, Gabe. It has been my pleasure, but I must be on my way. Please feel free to stop by tomorrow after I finish your rings.”

Hanzo Shimada, Swarovski’s latest bench jeweler, wanted to run out of the store with 6’ 1” worth of embarrassment. But he walked, instead. Like a mother fucker.

With five more inches of embarrassment than he had the height to contain. 

But in the name of young kids with big destructive energy and food court slushies, little did he know that he was about to be sniped from the lounge area just outside Hot Topic.

Today’s sniper was a 6 year old, now old enough to be clearly conscious of their behaviors, but young enough that they still had not yet fallen victim to polite etiquette and rationality. Today was a big day. It was his birthday, and had requested his two mothers take him to the mall for an extra large slushie in cherry. During the first 15 minutes, he had been nothing but determined to finish the obscenely large American beverage, down to the dregs. 

But at minute 20, his resolve had started to wane. He grew sick, he grew tired of sipping through the straw with a yellow stripe and a blue stripe on opposite sides of the tube. His tongue was a gnarly red from the amount of food coloring he had just practically inhaled. His tummy started to rumble, overcome by the amount of slushie now threatening to cause even more problems. And so as 6 year olds do, as 6 year olds do best, he decided it was high time to become a baseball player.

His mothers were busy in a conversation, probably discussing adult things like taxes or something. And so, if he was going to play baseball, the 6 year old had to wait until the perfect time to execute his pitch of the half-filled slushie drink to the trash can located a couple feet from the seating area, right across the walkway. He looked at one of the big clocks that was flashing on the top right of an advertisement screen, and noticed the time. 

It was 11:59AM.

From inside the Hot Topic located to his right, he overheard a tall person in a cowboy hat talk to one of the employees.

“Hana, guess what time it is.”

“Give me a raise, and maybe I will.”

He didn’t know what a raise was, but he knew he had to rise up and out of his chair for his pitch. Did that count? He slid down and gained some footing, and realized he was the exact same height of the trashcan a couple feet away. Checking in at about 3 and ½ feet, the little boy waited for the clock to strike 12 o’clock before beginning his recoil, like he was playing pitcher with his mom in their backyard.

He could still hear the cowboy, right by the Hot Topic entrance. 

“It’s high-”

The little boy pitched, not realizing a scary looking guy in a suit has been leaving the shop.

“noon.”

And that was how, during his lunch break, a week after getting hired as a bench jeweler, Hanzo Shimada was clocked with a slushie. 

Suit be damned. 

Credentials be damned. 

Life: be damned. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jesse said, having looked over at just the right moment to see the plastic cup explode upon impact. Having looked right over to see the moment the kid’s moms broke out in horror. Having looked right over to see the kid scurrying back to his parents for safety, lest Hanzo break out into a demon. Having looked right over the second everyone in the lounge area started to stare as well. 

But Hanzo didn’t look like he was about to raise hell.

“Jesse, get  _ out there _ .” 

And Jesse tried to hightail it, but stopped in his tracks right on the store’s frontier. Hanzo was mobbed by the two women, which were now profusely apologizing for their son’s behavior. Hanzo, despite just being nailed by a $7 beverage that totally just ruined his suit, looked as calm as humanly possible. It was almost ethereal. He gave a little laugh, trying to distract from the stains on his suit. His countenance was bright red as well, and it took all of Jesse’s willpower not to combust. Hanzo must have been embarrassed.

Hanzo took the slushie off the floor, and did an underhand throw to get it into the can. Showoff. But it also helped diffuse the situation. The kid looked like they had just met a professional player, going “ooo” with bright eyes. Hanzo reassured the moms that it was really quite alright and, no, they did not have to pay for his suit’s drycleaning fee. But maybe they could go find some custodial staff.

“It’s really quite alright--I was distracted by my own thoughts. I should have not gotten in the way of your son’s throw.” And what Hanzo had apparently been thinking about, what something that he would take to his grave. But perhaps it was related to wedding bands and a certain cowboy.

After a few more rounds of apologizing and one of the mothers talking to her son about how it is not appropriate to throw things inside of a mall. The two women looked aghast. The couple retold a story where their child had committed the same mistake just last week, except last week’s slushie victim was not nearly as nice about it. They really would pay Hanzo’s drycleaning fee, if he so wanted. Though Hanzo politely declined again, and offered more reassurance. 

Satisfied, one of the moms picked the 6 year old up, and the small family unit tried to find the nearest custodial staff, like Hanzo had suggested. Some of the onlookers, both people walking by and people stationed in the lounge, become disinterested now that the action was over. People resumed their business. Though it sufficed to say that this was the most interesting thing to happen at the local mall ever since, well, ever. 

Jesse unglued his feet from the store’s exit and walked forward.

Hanzo’s right shoulder had taken most of the hit, stained a darker color than the rest of the suit. Hanzo shrugged the jacket off, and started observing it for damages. For the size of that extra large beverage, he had been lucky to have walked away so unscathed. 

Hanzo noticed the man walking up to him after hearing the jingle of Jesse’s spurs, and sighed a sigh that only someone infinitely emotionally exhausted could have produced. Hanzo was a man of action, though he would just have to deal with the repercussions of his actions later. And Genji. He would very much have to deal with Genji later.

He took a deep breath and sealed his fate with something he never thought he would say to a human being so long as he lived. “Jesse McCree. A pleasure. I forgot to ask you earlier. Would you accompany for dinner after the mall closes today?”

Jesse McCree was shocked, to say the very least, and caught very off guard. But his response was almost immediate, since it was never polite to keep a man waiting. He tipped his hat. “Partner, see ya at 7.”

Hanzo internally bemoaned what he had just gotten himself into, but tried his best not thinking about it too hard. He have Jesse a small smile, this time, sincere. Genji be damned. Hanzo would just have to scream in the middle of a field later, when the time allowed for him to express everything he was internally feeling.

There was another ping, but this time it came from the middle of Swarovski’s sales floor, neither man in range to hear it. And if they had been in range, it would have been drowned out by a painfully loud and tasteless electric remix of Mozart’s Sonata No. 8. In fact, the only person that could have possibly heard it was Genji, because the sound emanating from his personal cell, and there wasn’t another living soul in the store. Maybe ghosts, though. 

Ghosts could have feasibly heard the ping. Genji took his eyes away from the scene out of a romantic fanfiction unfolding in the lounge area just in front of the store, and it took all of the energy in his body to do so. The theatrics. The drama. The impossibility of Hanzo asking someone out  _ willingly _ . He slid his phone out of his suit, which was conveniently a neon green and adorned with little embroidered sparrows, to check the text message he had just received.

**From: Hanaaaaaaa**

**12:01AM**

I hope ur ready 2 leave early bc im cancelling my stream and we’re hijacking the food court

Bwoop.

**To: Hanaaaaaaa**

**12:01AM**

but what abt my marathon

But what about  _ his marathon _ ? 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed!


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